


Koto

by utsu



Series: Between the Trees [10]
Category: Naruto
Genre: F/M, Introspection, Musical Instruments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-05-14 07:46:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14765481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/utsu/pseuds/utsu
Summary: SasuHina Prompt: Koto Instrument.





	Koto

He had come to think of it as the music of the night.

Each trailing tone lifted airily into the night skies, caressed the clouds. Up so high in a familiar perch, in a familiar tree, he let the moonlight kiss the backs of his eyelids. He let himself be still. 

Almost every night he came to listen to her show. A private sitting, audience of one. Not that she knew he was listening, of course. He wouldn’t admit, even to himself, that he’d yet to gather the courage to let Hyuuga Hinata know that he was fond of her music. He wasn’t a coward, but he’d rather die than interrupt the swell of lilting tunes that she enticed out of the strings of her koto. 

He’d thought of watching her through better eyes, once. To see the ways her delicate fingers stroked over the far more delicate strings, to trace the paths through which her hands would move to create such beautiful melodies. It hadn’t taken him long to decide against it. For one thing, hers was the kind of music he thought best listened to entirely, without distraction from any of his other senses. And besides, he thought sardonically, he’d never been good with any instrument that wasn’t intended to kill. 

He opened his eyes under heavy eyelids, ignored the goosebumps along his arms from the cold. His hair shifted, the leaves around him mirroring the movement, and the breeze danced through the streets of Konoha. The rooftops obscuring Hinata from view were a structured slide of bamboo, with vegetation growing over them. Her family’s central gardens; coveted and private. 

But not to him; not when he was willing to climb to the highest of trees and rest his back against the bark, to get even the slightest glimpse of the way the elements of the world around them fell for Hinata in just the same way that he had—slowly, carefully, and tangibly. The long fall of her midnight hair fell over her shoulder in stark waves that moved with the breeze; fingertips of wind carding through her long tresses. She was a dark spot alight by the light of the moon, surrounded by dulled hues of color in the plethora of flora that grew around her. Under the fall of night, nearly everything became shades of gray. 

He knew without being close enough to see that her cheeks would defy that logic, tinted pink, as endearing as she was subtly striking. Night after night, Sasuke found himself wanting to get closer. To start seeing more, where before he had been content just to listen. The koto was a special instrument, rare to hear as modern music grew and changed quickly with each passing day. He wasn’t surprised that it had drawn Hinata’s interest. He wondered if she’d been forced to play as a child, or if she’d found her way to the strings through some kind of curious whimsy. 

As the chords slowed and then settled, Sasuke allowed himself one moment longer to absorb the change in the environment; the way the music of the world came back into focus with the absence of Hinata’s melody. He watched from far off and could see the care she used while handling the instrument. He watched the way she slid a door open silently, and slipped away inside in the same movement. The door slid shut and Sasuke brought himself to his feet, one hand resting against the rough bark beside him. His fingertip touched sap and came away sticky. He didn’t mind it. He slipped both hands into his pockets and started descending his familiar perch, until his feet landed silently against the dirt. His shoulders turned him away from the bustling nightlife of the city, and headed for the ghost town of his compound, and the quiet home he came home to every night. 

He looked forward to the next night, where he would undoubtedly find himself sitting against the tree, eyes closed under the moon listening to Hinata’s fingers dance over the strings of her koto, his heart pounding along to each new beat she set. 

 

✧

 

Several weeks passed, and then the music stopped. 

Sasuke wasn’t confused so much as he was startled—of course Hinata would have to go on missions, some longer than others. He’d just grown so accustomed to his—their—nightly routine that the absence of her melody felt sudden, and wrong, and concerning. His feet hit the dirt before he was even consciously aware of it, his tree standing tall and proud behind him, branches barely dancing after the shift from his weight upon them. 

He forced himself to approach her compound with steady, unhurried steps. He didn’t hesitate at the front gate, or even approach it. He scaled the walls and moved along the rooftops, heading for the central gardens, the sound of a gently stirring stream. He leapt down into the tall grass, sticking to the shadows, chakra signature silenced completely. He headed for the familiar bench upon which she sat, and saw the koto lying against it. Strange that she’d left it outside, he thought, and found himself wondering at the urgency and nature of her mission. Would she be okay? Would she return home to him safely?

Startled at the possessiveness of his thoughts, he scoffed, crouching near the koto. Return home…to him? He couldn’t remember the last time they’d spoken more than a handful of words to one another, and not when a mission necessitated it. He was too reticent, a lone wolf. She had many friends, all of which she made sure to share time with—to share herself with. They got all of the things that Sasuke wished he could have, too. Her laughter. Her concern. Her conversation. 

A simple moment of her time.

Naruto made it look easy, but that was because he had no sense of personal boundaries to begin with. Sasuke would wager that his best friend wouldn’t understand the feeling of romantic love until someone explicitly told him that that’s what he was feeling, and even then, he wouldn’t be surprised by it. He’d just accept it and move forward. If there was anything that Sasuke envied of his best friend, besides his seemingly endless pools of chakra, it was that. 

What he struggled with was moving forward—not because of fear, but doubt. Who would ever want someone as tainted as he? 

Sasuke could recognize the feeling of love. He loved his brother. He’d loved his parents, his cousin. He loved Naruto and Sakura, too. 

He was not in love with Hinata. He didn’t know her well enough to be in love with her—but he felt for her, in a way he had never felt for anyone else. And that alone concerned him. 

He reached out and let his fingertips touch the polished wood of her koto, and he laid out the facts of what he did and did not know of one Hyuuga Hinata. 

He knew enough about her to think that he knew her—any shinobi worth their salt would investigate the things and the people in their life that could become a threat—but he didn’t know her personally. He knew she was the eldest child, the heir to her clan, a master of hand-to-hand combat even without the Byakugan activated, and that she had an overwhelming fondness for children and animals. He knew that she was protective of her younger sister who most certainly didn’t need protecting; that she had tea with her father every Sunday morning and discussed clan politics every Monday and Thursday morning with the counsel of her clan. He knew she was weak to genjutsu. He knew that she was as lethal as she was gentle, depending on the day and the person standing in front of her. He knew she was a medic. He knew she was kind. 

He didn’t know what her favorite food was, or her favorite color. Did she prefer sunrises or sunsets? What was her favorite animal, and did she want kids. Did she brighten under the sun, like Naruto, or was she more like Sasuke, who so loved the rain? Was she comforted by the touch of another, or would she shy away. 

He let his fingertips trail along the strings of her favored instrument just once, just to hear the chords and let his heart remember the way her music moved through him in soothing waves, before he vanished. By the time Hyuuga guards raced into the garden, Sasuke was already heading towards Hokage Tower, hands in his pockets, thoughts full of moonlight eyes and sunset cheeks. 

He smiled, just barely.

 

✧

 

Hinata returned on a Saturday night, and with her, a melody. 

It was different, this time. Jagged and fragmented. An edge of frustration in a warped chord. Sasuke had been sitting in his tree every night he was free, waiting to hear her. Waiting for her to return home. Night after night, there had been nothing but the buzz of nightlife, the movement of the wind through the trees, at one time when he was young more familiar to him than his own breathing. He’d been gone a long time, and only just recently returned. To Konoha. To his home. He was trying to re-learn her voice. 

He learned Hinata’s melody quicker; this time he’d been walking past her compound, heading for his perch. He stopped as he heard one of her chords tremble, and waver. He reached out and pressed his open palm against the heavy wood of the walls surrounding her compound, as though he could feel the striking of her chords through his skin. When another swell of chords came and ended on a sharp tremor, he found himself scaling buildings again, moving across rooftops. He crouched low on the edge of the roof nearest the garden and most covered in shadow, though the moon was as bright as ever. 

He looked down and saw Hinata on that same ornate bench, legs crossed at the ankles, fingers on the strings. This time there were anomalies—bandages on her fingers, her posture no longer perfectly and elegantly upright, and a frown swelling over her beautiful features. 

He heard her sigh, resting her open palm over the strings for a moment as her head hung. He watched her take a deep breath and try to sit up straight, not quite managing to do so, before her the tension in her hand abated with conscious effort. It became loose and elegant, freely moving, and he watched her drag her fingertips over the chords in another attempt. It sounded normal at first, beautiful and uplifting, but then her fingers twitched and the chords pulled, and this time her sigh was a tremble of chords within her. 

Sasuke had never entertained the idea of letting Hyuuga Hinata know that he listened to her music, that he liked it. He had daydreamed once of telling her how beautifully she played, but had stopped that train of thought the moment he realized he’d have to talk to her alone in order to do so. 

But there—that tremble of her lips, the specific tenor of her sigh, and he was moving down into the garden without hesitation. He knew the moment she knew someone was there, even when he was still moving silently and keeping to the shadows. She stiffened, and a flickering blue veil of chakra hiccupped around her hands for a moment before pilfering out. She gasped, a pained thing, and Sasuke moved from the shadows to calm her startled heart. 

Her eyes widened the moment she saw who her surprise visitor was, and she made almost as if she were going to stand before thinking better of it. She didn’t move, only watched as he approached her. Her eyes flickered around the rooftops, searching for anyone else who might have come with him—searching for his team, most likely. A sudden jealous twinge lunged through him as he wondered if she was looking for Naruto, specifically. 

“Uchiha-san,” she breathed, before clearing her throat. “What are you doing here? And so late at night?”

Sasuke was startled to realize that the significance of the time of night had never occurred to him before. Time worked differently for those who were constantly alone. He preferred the night time, and had no one to entertain in the days. It hadn’t occurred to him that it would be strange, showing up so late at night, as she’d so gently put it. Blood briefly pooled in his cheeks. 

“Are you alright?” He asked, not knowing what else to say now that he was standing right in front of her, so late at night, for no easily explainable reason. He felt foolish, but his heart felt light, and raced. The moonlight played over Hinata beautifully, casting her in a pale glow. Her hair was messy, long down her back. The hair in her face was stringy, in need of a wash, but her eyes were brighter than he’d ever seen. Maybe it was the surprise, or the awareness that Uchiha Sasuke was inside her compound, asking after her health. 

“I’m…alright,” she answered hesitantly, with noticeable confusion. “I’m sorry, Uchiha-san. I’m not sure—why—how did you come to be here?”

“I used the rooftops,” he said lightly, feeling even more foolish as his poor attempt at a joke fell between them. Hinata’s lips quirked, and he watched the way she idly rested one hand against the chords of her koto.

“The rooftops,” she repeated, and Sasuke said nothing at all. He watched amusement move over her features. “Makes sense. Would you mind if I asked you why you’ve come here?”

So late at night. Sasuke was never going to let himself live this down. And of course, that was the question, wasn’t it? What was he doing there. How could he explain it to her without seeming creepy, or intimidating, or just ridiculous. The longer he gazed down at her, distracted by the beauty of her rounded face and curves, so unlike the sharpness of his angles, the more he leaned towards honesty. 

He said, “I like your music.” He watched the way her eyebrows jumped, surprised, and there—her cheeks became pink with embarrassment. 

“Oh,” she laughed, self-conscious. “Well I’m afraid it’s not even really good enough to be called music tonight, on account of these.” She held up her hands, balancing her koto on her legs and letting Sasuke get a better look at the bandages circling her fingers, her hands, her wrists. Some of them had blood smeared through the fabric, but most were clean. Stark white.

“What happened?” He asked, uncaring of how forward he was being. Any trace of embarrassment he might have felt fell away in lieu of concern and curiosity. And distraction. She was well-suited to the night, and Sasuke’s eyes kept catching on the shine of her lips. 

Hinata hesitated for a moment, and he could see the way she was deciding on whether to make a comment about how unusual this situation was, or just move forward as he was. After a brief pause, she seemed to decide on the latter. 

“A mission, of course. A wickedly cut blade, edged in serrated chakra.” She smiled wrly. “He was very quick, and he cut very deep.”

Sasuke frowned, moving closer, wanting to see, to touch. He was no medic, but the sight of her hands—her beautiful, masterful hands—bandaged and bleeding had his heart pounding uncomfortably in his chest. He took another step towards her and it moved him completely from the shadows and into the light of the moon, and he watched the way Hinata took this transition. Her eyes widened slightly, her lips parting. He wondered what she saw when she looked at him. When she blushed again, he felt desperate. He wanted to know her thoughts, wished he was better at reading people by their emotions. 

She laughed, quietly to herself, a distraction. She glanced away from him and he watched the way she looked at her own hands, stiffly moving her fingers around. “He cut through my nerves. Any less deep, and I could’ve healed myself fully. It wouldn’t be an issue. But nerves take so long to heal.”

Some part of Sasuke’s memory flagged, and he heard Sakura’s voice in his head as she healed. 

You see, nerves take longer to repair. He could remember the wry twist of her lips. Just like when you get on my nerves, and it takes me longer to forgive you.

Sasuke’s eyes narrowed, trailing over Hinata’s wounds with more concern. He wanted to bring her to Sakura, or bring Sakura to her, or bring her to the hospital—anything he could to get her healing. But he knew even as he thought it that it was pointless. He knew how long it took to heal nerves, which not so long ago could not in fact be healed at all, before medicine outgrew the impossibility. Still, it would take several long sessions of healing to completely regain sensation and dexterity. And still, there could be complications. Some feeling unable to be regained. 

Sasuke saw the shadows in Hinata’s eyes and wondered if she was thinking the same things as he was, and worrying, too. But then those shadows vanished, and Hinata’s smile grew as she shook her head. She was lighthearted, refreshing, and he couldn’t understand why she wasn’t more concerned for her health—like he was. 

“It’ll be okay, though. We have the best healers around, right? Things might be a little difficult for a while, since I’m so used to working with my hands. Especially with this,” she laughed, stroking her fingers over the chords of her koto. Sasuke found himself thinking about that phrase, working with my hands, and his thoughts turned abruptly inappropriate. He wondered at what it would feel like to have her hands on his skin, moving over him with that same interest and purpose with which she played music and went to battle. He imagined he wouldn’t be opposed to either scenario, so long as he could feel her hands on him. 

He kept a purposefully blank face as she straightened her posture as best as she could. 

“But I won’t back down from a challenge. Soon I’ll be able to play this well enough again. If—if you’d be so inclined, I could play something for you that is much better than this. If that’s something you’d be interested in. Ah, but you’re probably so busy—in very high demand—I mean, for missions. Although I’m sure you’re in high demand in other regards, too, but—that’s, that’s beside the point. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” he chastised, though amusement curled through him, twisting the corner of his lips up into a smile. He watched the way that captured her, and he felt more powerful than he had in months. “I have heard you play before, Hinata. I’d like to hear you play again.”

Hinata blinked, not quite comprehending his words for the longest of moments. When they registered appropriately, he watched the way she sputtered, and blushed, and self-consciously tucked her hair behind her ear. 

“When?” She asked, and Sasuke felt no shame in admitting, “A while.” 

Hinata frowned, and he could practically see her trying to piece her way through it, wondering where he’d listened from, how she’d never discovered him. But then her features settled, peaceful and slightly self-conscious, into the same kind of serenity he so often heard come from her instrument. 

Sasuke gestured to her koto, and allowed himself to sink down to the grass in front of her. He looked up at her and waited patiently as she adjusted to the fact that Uchiha Sasuke was sitting in her garden, under the moon, waiting to listen to her play the koto—poorly. Her hands moved, fingers and wrists trembling, and he watched the way concentration and determination shifted over her features, steeling them. She tried to play her melodies, and she faltered, but Sasuke did not judge her. When she looked up at him apologetically, he didn’t say a word, only tilted his chin towards her koto and gazed at her until she had to look away, and try again. 

He lost track of time, sitting there looking up at her and thinking she was the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. He thought again of the parts of her he didn’t know, and realized stunningly that he wanted to know, he so desperately wanted to know. 

“How do you feel about the rain?” He asked, when she paused to massage her wrists and stretch her fingers. He watched the way she glanced at him, shy and curious at his interest in her, and he felt his heart so presently beating in his chest. 

Hinata’s lips parted, and Sasuke knew he’d spent a lifetime waiting to hear the words that would follow.


End file.
